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Dark Smiles

                The idea of choosing a nightclub based on the appearance of its sign seemed naïve to Kevin.  However, after spending half an hour searching fruitlessly for a club with a short enough line of sufficiently interesting people, it was ultimately a sign that caught Kevin’s eye.  It read “Dark Smiles” and was accompanied by pictures of women smiling mischievously.

                It was the only sign Kevin had seen that evening that gave anything close to a reliable indication of what the club it named was like.  Some clubs had seductive names like “Paradise”, some had more modest names like “Loser’s Shack”, and some had scary names like “Minotaur’s Lair”, but neither these names nor the artwork on these clubs implied anything particular about the interior (assuming the owners had not somehow captured a live minotaur and gotten the municipal inspectors to sign off on it).  The sign for Dark Smiles, on the other hand, clearly conveyed the message: “We are going to have a great time at your expense.”

                It takes a very specific type of person to walk into a place like that.  It’s not enough to enjoy seeing people smile.  Most nightclub staff smile, either because they’re required to or because it helps them get tips.  To enter a place that practically brags about preying on its customers, one would have to have such a high level of empathy that one would endure any amount of humiliation or discomfort in order to be certain that the smiles of others were genuine.  And one would indeed be certain, because there would be no reason for an open predator (well, prankster anyway; the smiles weren’t quite condescending) to fake enjoyment.  Kevin was not surprised by the absence of any line at the door; he doubted many people had that kind of empathy.

                Kevin himself, however, was one of the (probably) few that did.  It had been several years since he had had to put up with any malicious teasing by classmates, and he was in a good enough mood that he felt he could take whatever the people at Dark Smiles threw at him as long as it did something for them, so he decided to go in.

                For all the chilling undertones of the sign, the door was actually quite inviting.  It was closed and opaque, but it had a big, cute up arrow outline on it, inside of which the word “Enter” was printed.  Kevin entered and found himself in a fairly small entrance hallway.  Two open doorways in front of him led deeper into the club, but before Kevin could more than glance at them he heard a voice to his right say, “Welcome to Dark Smiles.”  He turned and saw a friendly-looking man sitting behind a counter with a cash register.

                The man was smiling pleasantly, not darkly like the women on the sign.  He had a very easygoing appearance: casual enough not to seem intimidating, but well-groomed enough not to look like a pickpocket.  Kevin took the two steps to the counter, letting the front door close behind him.

                “Have you been here before?” the man asked.

                “No,” Kevin answered.

                “Do you know much about this place?”

                “Only what I can guess based on the sign.”

                “Okay.  Dark Smiles is a drinking bar.  Unlike some of the clubs in this area, we do not have a dance floor or a disco ball, and we play our music quietly enough to encourage conversation.  Shall I continue?”

                “Sure.”

                “The next thing you need to know is that you might be put into situations that you find distressing.  Have you ever been to a haunted house?”

                “No.”

                “Would it bother you to be pushed into mud or sprayed with silly string?”

                “Sometimes, but not tonight.  Is that the sort of thing that happens here?”

                “Not those things specifically, but that’s about the level of mischief that you can expect.  I won’t elaborate any further because surprise is part of the game.  Do you have any physical or mental health conditions that you think we should know about?”

                “Not that I can think of.”

                “You should be fine then.  Now, before you’re allowed to enter the main area, you have to either pay a fifty-dollar cover or change into a special outfit that we provide.  You’ll notice that there are two doorways leading into the club.”  Kevin looked at the doorways that he had seen when he came in.  “The doorway on the left leads straight to the bar for customers who choose to pay the fifty dollars.  The doorway on the right leads to changing rooms and lockers, and a hallway continues past them into the rest of the club so that you don’t have to come back through here.  Would you like to see the outfit?”

                “Sure.”

                The man looked under the counter briefly and then pulled out a folded stack of white cloth.  He proceeded to unfold it by holding an edge up with both hands and letting the rest fall.  It appeared to be a one-piece garment that combined a plain white t-shirt with pants of the same material and color, although there was no waistband to indicate where the shirt ended and the pants began.  After a few seconds he turned it around horizontally.  On the newly-revealed side (Kevin couldn’t tell whether it was the back or the front), there appeared to be a vertical break or fold in the “shirt” portion, midway between the shoulders, starting at the neck opening and stopping near the waist.  “It fastens at the back with VELCRO®,” the man explained, pulling the garment apart at the neck to demonstrate how the back detached down to the waist in a V.  Kevin noticed two round holes next to the tops of the V at the neck, about the size of his thumbnail, each of which was reinforced by a metal ring.  The man then re-fastened the back of the outfit, and the two holes lined up at the back of the neck.  He turned the garment back around.

                The man went on, “If you choose to wear this outfit then cover is free.  You would be required to buy at least one drink, unless someone else offers to buy one for you, but I can assure you that our drink prices are quite reasonable.  The bigger concern is that the outfit will mark you, both to staff and to other customers, as a target.  So what do you think?  Would you rather pay the fifty dollars, wear the outfit, or go somewhere else?”

                “I’ll wear the outfit,” Kevin said.  He didn’t know enough about the place to want to pay fifty dollars to get in, and he didn’t think he would be able to find another place with quite such a playful atmosphere.

                “Okay.  Here,” the man said, holding the outfit out to Kevin, who took it.  “This one should fit you.  If it doesn’t, come back and I’ll give you a different size.  Before putting it on, I recommend that you remove all of your clothes, including socks, shoes, and underwear, so that they stay clean and dry no matter what happens to you in the club.  Would you like a pair of flip-flops?”

                “Sure.”

                “Do you know your shoe size?”

                “Nine.”

                “Do you care what color?”

                “How about purple?”

                The man looked under the counter and took out a pair of purple flip-flops.  “Here,” he said, handing them to Kevin.  “Remember, changing rooms are through the doorway on the right.  There are three of them, all on your right-hand side.  Look for one with an open door; if they’re all closed, try knocking and then go in if no one answers.  Lockers for your outside clothes and shoes are against the opposite wall.  You can pick any locker with a key in it.  The key will come out once the locker is closed, can be worn around your wrist, and has the locker number on it in case you forget it.  Remember also that that hallway continues into the club, so you don’t have to come back here until you’re ready to leave.  You can use your key to start a bar tab, so that you don’t have to carry cash or cards with you into the club.  Do you have any questions?”

                “No, I don’t think so.”

                “Great.  There’s a staff member at the other end of the hallway who can help you if you have any difficulties.  Have fun!”

                Kevin carried the outfit and flip-flops through the right-hand doorway and immediately found himself in a hallway with a wall of lockers on his left and three doors on his right.  All three of the doors were open.  Kevin went through the first door, which led to a small room with a bench.  He closed and locked the door, sat on the bench, and started taking off his shoes and clothes.  Following the man’s advice, he stripped completely naked, folding each article of clothing as he took it off and stacking them on the bench next to him.  He then opened the back of the outfit and climbed into it.  It was not excessively difficult to put on, although fastening the back again was a slight challenge.  In the end, though, he was able to do it on his own, found that the outfit did indeed fit him well, and emerged from the changing room wearing his new outfit and carrying his old one.  He found an empty locker, put his street clothes and shoes into it, closed the door, took the key, which was attached to a wristband, and put it around his wrist.  He then followed the hallway deeper into the club.

                There was indeed a staff member at the far end of the hallway: a woman with reddish brown hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a shirt with “Dark Smiles” written on it.  The smile she put on when she saw Kevin was, in fact, a bit dark, unlike the smile of the man at the front.  Kevin did not let his gaze linger on her, in order to make it clear that he did not have any questions.  Even so, when he reached the end of the hallway, she said, quite loudly, “Welcome to Dark Smiles!”

                “Thank you,” Kevin said uncertainly, looking at her.  The woman winked at him, then looked away.  Kevin glanced quickly around the room he had just entered.  It was not crowded, but all of the twenty or so people that Kevin could see seemed to suddenly be looking at him.  One woman, seated with others around a fairly long table, actually stood up.  Kevin spotted the bar, which only had a couple of patrons at it, and started walking in that direction.

                He had only taken a few steps when he heard a different nearby female voice say appreciatively, “Welcome indeed.”  He turned and saw that the woman who had stood up from the table was now standing right next to him.  “Is it your first time here?” she asked.

                “Yes,” Kevin said.

                “Delicious,” the woman purred, more to herself than to Kevin.  “Looks like I’m in for a real treat.”  Kevin started to worry that this woman might actually eat him.  He felt something against the back of his neck, then heard a click from that same spot.  He reached up with his hand and felt a palm-sized metallic object there.  “It’s a combination lock,” the woman told him.  “It prevents you from taking off your outfit until I decide to unlock it.  We put one on everyone who wears the outfit.  I’m glad I got to you before one of the staff members did.  I’ll take the lock off at the end of the night so that you can change back into your street clothes.  In the meantime, why don’t you come sit with us?  I saved you a seat.”

                Kevin looked at her, confused.  “How did you know I was coming?”

                “Okay, not you you.  I saved a seat for a cute first timer.  So hurry up and take it before someone else does.”  She took hold of Kevin’s wrist and started pulling him back toward her table.  Kevin decided not to resist.  If he did get eaten, then at least he would be a source of enjoyment for an attractive woman.

                The table had a transparent top and was much longer than it was wide.  Up close, Kevin could see that it consisted of several smaller tables arranged edge-to-edge.  There were five chairs on each of the long sides of the assembled table but no chairs at the ends.  On the far side, the leftmost and rightmost pairs of chairs were each occupied by a man and a woman, while the middle chair was empty.  On the near side, the leftmost two chairs were empty, while the three rightmost chairs were all occupied by women.  The woman between the other two, in the fourth chair from the left, was the only person at the table wearing the club’s special white outfit.  Her outfit, like Kevin’s, had a combination lock passing through the two holes at the back of the neck, preventing the outfit from being removed while the lock was in place.

                The woman who had brought Kevin there pulled out the second chair from the left on the near side of the table and gestured for Kevin to sit.  He did, and then the woman herself sat in the empty chair to his left.  “I’m Wanda,” she said to Kevin, holding out her right hand.

                “Kevin,” Kevin said, shaking it.

                A waitress approached the table.  “What would you like to drink?” she asked Kevin.

                “Do you have pineapple juice?” Kevin asked.

                “Sure thing,” the waitress answered.  “I’ll be right back.”  She headed back to the bar.

                While she was gone, Wanda introduced Kevin to the others around the table.  The woman to Kevin’s immediate right was named Crystal.  The woman beyond her, in the white outfit, was named Emily.  Emily was apparently another first timer, and she looked as nervous as Kevin felt.  The woman to Emily’s right was named Debbie.  Wanda told Kevin that Debbie was the one who had put the lock on Emily’s outfit.  The names of the people across the table Kevin forgot almost as soon as they were introduced, although he did learn that each pair was a romantic couple.

                The waitress came back to the table.  “Here’s your pineapple juice,” she said in a musical voice, putting the glass in front of Kevin.  She had an amused smile on her face.  Kevin wasn’t sure what could be so funny about a glass of pineapple juice, but he decided not to think about it too hard.  “It’s two dollars,” the waitress said.

                Kevin realized that he had left his wallet in his locker.  Then he remembered that he was supposed to use his key to start a tab.  Before he could remove it from his wrist, though, Wanda said to the waitress, “Put it on my tab.”

                “You got it,” the waitress said.  “Wanda, right?”

                “That’s right,” Wanda said.

                “Enjoy your drink,” the waitress said to Kevin, smiling even more widely, before heading off again.  Kevin was becoming increasingly curious about what all these people were smiling about, but at the same time he thought that maybe he was better off not knowing.  He started to drink his juice.

                “I notice that Emily’s the only other person at this table wearing this outfit,” Kevin said between sips.  “Does that mean that the rest of you all paid the fifty dollars to get in?”

                “Yes,” Wanda said.  “After the first visit, the free option just doesn’t cut it anymore.”

                “But it’s so much money!  What do you get for it?”

                “We get left alone.  And if we’re lucky —” she started caressing Kevin’s shoulder with her fingers — “we get toys of our own.”

                As Kevin finished his juice, Emily inhaled sharply, then, speaking quickly, asked, “Does anyone know where the bathroom is?”  While she had never truly been at ease, Kevin was surprised by how suddenly her anxiety level seemed to have skyrocketed.  Equally surprising was how quickly and excitedly everyone else around the table smiled in response to Emily’s question.  Their smiles made Kevin even more uneasy than he had been, but they did not appear to be literally cannibalistic; whatever horrors might happen to Kevin or Emily while they were there, Kevin felt reassured that the two of them would be able to leave at the end of the night without any permanent wounds.  Emily seemed to feel similarly; she sounded scared but not adrenaline-scared as she asked, “Why are you all smiling?”

                Debbie, the woman on Emily’s right, said, “You won’t be able to use the toilet until I unlock your outfit.”

                “Right, of course,” said Emily, in a tone that suggested she had forgotten about the lock.  “I’ll need you to take the lock off.  But it would also be helpful to know where the bathroom actually is.”

                In an amused tone, Debbie said to the people across the table, “She wants to know where the bathroom is.”  She turned to Emily and said, “The bathroom’s next to the hallway where you came in.  But I don’t feel like taking the lock off yet.”

                Emily put a hand between her legs to squeeze her crotch, then crossed her legs tightly over the hand and bent forward.  She used her other hand to try to pull the neck of her outfit over her shoulders, but with the lock in place the neck wouldn’t stretch far enough.  She also fumbled at the lock to confirm that it couldn’t be removed without dialing the combination, which Emily couldn’t have done even if she knew the combination because she couldn’t see the numbers on the lock.  Wanda moved her hand from Kevin’s shoulder to his chest, continuing to massage him gently.

                “Come on,” Emily said to Debbie, “I really have to pee.  Could you please take the lock off?  You can put it back on when I get back.”

                “Oh, you have to pee, do you?” Debbie teased, still smiling widely.

                “Yes,” Emily said anxiously, “I really, really have to pee.  Please take the lock off so I can go to the bathroom.”

                “Well, I could take the lock off, but I think it would be more fun to tickle you,” Debbie said, then unfastened some of the VELCRO® holding Emily’s outfit together at the back, slid her hand in, and started tickling Emily’s side under the outfit.  Crystal, the woman on Emily’s left (next to Kevin), also slid her hand in to join in on the tickling.

                The four people across the table, who were also still smiling, each slid a hand down the adjacent person’s pants and started rubbing.  They did it in pairs; no one reached across the empty chair.  Kevin remembered that each pair was a romantic couple, so it wasn’t as though they were touching someone that they had just met, unlike Wanda, whose hand had drifted down to Kevin’s stomach.

                “What, you think this is cute?” Emily asked, still squeezing herself with her hand between her tightly crossed legs while trying to dodge the tickling fingers of the women on either side of her.  “I’m serious, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.”

                “Aww,” Crystal teased, “are you going to wet yourself?  Are you going to start peeing helplessly into your thin white cotton outfit?”

                Emily did not respond.  Wanda slid her hand farther down Kevin’s front until she reached his penis, which had already started to harden from Emily’s movements and pleas and the teasing of the women next to her.  As Wanda rubbed Kevin’s penis through his outfit, she said softly into his ear, “It is pretty cute, isn’t it?  Look how tightly Emily’s squeezing her pussy with her hand and thighs.  Look at the way she’s wriggling and squirming.  Look at her face; she’s starting to panic.  She really does have to pee extremely badly.  But Debbie’s enjoying the show too much to want to take the lock off.  Isn’t it delicious?”

                Kevin thought about speaking up for Emily.  Remembering what the man at the front had said about silly string and mud, however, Kevin figured that refusing to unlock someone’s outfit when she needed to pee was fair game, so he decided to keep quiet.  Remembering the lock on his own outfit, Kevin made a mental note to avoid drinking too much so that the same thing didn’t happen to him.  Of course, they would probably still find some way to trick him.  Or perhaps they had already decided to be nice to him that evening.  He turned his attention back to Emily.

                Emily uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way, with her hand still between them, while the women on either side of her continued to smile and tickle her.  “Try not to think about waterfalls,” Crystal teased in a singsong voice.

                “Are you trying to make me wet myself?” Emily demanded.

                “Maybe I’ll take the lock off before you lose control, or maybe I won’t,” Debbie answered.  “At the moment, though, I’m really enjoying watching you frantically try to stay dry.”

                “You have to pee so-o-o bad right now, don’t you?” Crystal asked Emily rhetorically.  “You really need Debbie to take that lock off soon so that you can have a clean, relieving pee in the toilet instead of an embarrassing, wet accident in your clothes, don’t you?  Do you feel like you’re about to completely soak yourself?  Do you feel like, no matter how tightly you squeeze your crotch, your pee is about to start flowing uncontrollably and unstoppably out through your pussy and saturate the entire lower half of your outfit?”

                Emily started to rhythmically tense and release her crossed thighs and the hand in her crotch.  She seemed to be rocking back and forth, but she was already moving around so much from Debbie and Crystal’s tickling that it was hard to tell.  Kevin felt his penis harden further from Wanda’s hand and the scene in front of him.

                Debbie started hissing at Emily, and Crystal quickly joined in.  Emily started continuously uncrossing and re-crossing her legs, bending forward each time they were crossed, her hand still frantically squeezing and releasing her vulva as she tried as hard as she could to keep from peeing where she sat.  She was quiet for a time, but then suddenly her panic seemed to peak, and, speaking very quickly, she begged Debbie, “Come on, you need to take the lock off now, I’m about to start peeing, come on, come on, hurry up, I can’t hold it anymore, I’m about to — oh no, I’m starting to pee, come on, hurry up and get the lock off!”  Debbie and Crystal stopped hissing and took their hands out from inside Emily’s outfit.  Debbie re-fastened the VELCRO®.

                “You’re peeing?” Debbie asked playfully, still smiling.

                Still panicking, and still speaking very quickly, Emily answered, “Yes, I’m peeing in my pants, I can’t stop it, please, please, please take the lock off, come on, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!”

                Debbie just sat there smiling at Emily.  Through the transparent tabletop, Kevin saw a wet patch on Emily’s outfit start to spread past the hand she still had in her crotch.  Her crossed thighs were still rapidly tensing and releasing, but it didn’t stop the wet patch from spreading further.  She took her hand out of her crotch, wiped it on the dry outside of one of her thighs, and then buried her face in both hands while she continued to helplessly pee down the legs of her white cotton outfit.

                No one said anything as the legs of Emily’s outfit got wetter and wetter, or as the pee dripped from her ankle cuffs and the edges of her chair.  Eventually Emily relaxed and uncrossed her thighs, presumably since they no longer seemed to be helping, though she kept her face in her hands.  When the pee finally stopped flowing, Wanda gave Kevin’s very hard penis a playful squeeze through his outfit and then removed her hand.  The two couples across the table removed their own hands from their partners’ pants.  Then everyone at the table except Kevin and Emily applauded.  Emily cautiously peeked up over her hands.

                When she was done clapping, Debbie, sounding impressed, said to Emily, “Wow, that was beautiful.”  Debbie kissed Emily on a part of her cheek that wasn’t covered by her hands, then continued gently, “Don’t be sad.  You were perfect.  The bathroom next to the hallway where you came in has showers and fresh towels so you can get cleaned up.  Hold still.”  Debbie dialed the combination on Emily’s lock, then took the lock off and put it in her purse.  “You can change back into your street clothes now that you’ve given your show.  A staff member will clean the floor and replace your chair while you’re gone.  But hurry back.  There’s another show starting soon, and I think you’ll enjoy that one.”

                Emily slowly lifted her face out of her hands.  She appeared nervous, but not upset.  She looked at Debbie, whose smile had turned sympathetic.  After a few moments, Emily asked Debbie faintly, “Could you walk me to the bathroom?”

                “Sure,” Debbie said.  The two of them stood up, and for the first time Kevin saw how sheer the wet parts of Emily’s outfit were.  It seemed that she had also followed the advice of the man at the front not to wear anything under the outfit.  Kevin had a brief but clear glimpse of Emily’s labia through the wet, clingy, translucent material at the front, and as she and Debbie started walking away toward the bathroom, Kevin could that the back of the outfit was completely soaked, see-through, and plastered to Emily from the waist down, making her entire bum (as well as the backs of her legs) completely visible to anyone on that side of her, including Kevin.

                “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Wanda murmured into Kevin’s ear.  Kevin continued to stare at Emily as she and Debbie exchanged a few inaudible words with the female staff member at the near end of the locker/changing-room hallway before Emily went into the bathroom and the door closed behind her.  Wanda was right; it was one of the most amazing things Kevin had ever seen.

                Debbie came back to the table, and a few moments later a staff member arrived with a mop, bucket, and rag.  The staff member wiped the top of Emily’s chair with the rag, then moved the chair out of the way and mopped up the puddle of Emily’s pee from the floor.  The staff member then took the chair away.

                “Wow, that was so much fun!” Debbie said excitedly.  “The panic on her face as she started to pee helplessly while frantically begging me to take the lock off was absolutely delicious!”

                “Yes, I loved it!” Crystal agreed.  “But remember, I get to use my lock next time.”

                “Yes, of course,” Debbie said.

                “I hope Emily’s okay,” one of the women across the table said.

                “So do I,” said Debbie.  “I’ll check in with her when she gets back.  If she comes back.”

                A staff member came to the table to bring a clean chair to Emily’s place.  Kevin couldn’t tell whether or not it was the same staff member, nor could he tell whether or not it was the same chair.  As he watched the staff member leave, Kevin saw the bathroom door open and Emily emerge wearing a white towel.  She looked at the table briefly, smiled weakly at Kevin, and then disappeared into the hallway with the lockers.

                “I’d say that was well worth the fifty-dollar cover, wouldn’t you?” Wanda asked Kevin.

                “Absolutely,” Kevin answered.

                “We don’t get targets every week,” Wanda explained, “and when we do there’s often stiff competition for them.  But when we are able to catch one it makes up for all the other times.  The seven of us have banded together to increase our chances of getting victims to share, but I think this is the first time we’ve managed to get two in one night.”

                “Two?” Kevin asked.  “So I am, in fact, a victim?”  It had been his assumption coming in, but having seen Emily freak out while he, Kevin, had been able to calmly enjoy the show, he had started to think that perhaps he had somehow escaped disaster.  Wanda’s count, however, suggested otherwise.

                “Yes,” Wanda answered, confirming Kevin’s fears.  “I’ll explain why when Emily finishes changing.”

                Soon Kevin saw Emily return to the table wearing a long black dress that was thin enough to show the general shape of her body but opaque enough to conceal the color of the skin under it.  She was smiling uncertainly.

                “They cleaned the floor and brought a new chair,” Debbie said, rubbing her hand on the seat of the chair and then holding the hand up for Emily to see how clean it was.  “You can sit here again.”  Emily cautiously pulled out the chair, sat down, and scooted back in.  “Are you okay?” Debbie asked gently.

                “I’m okay,” Emily said calmly.  “But don’t make me pee in my dress.  I have to wear it home.”

                “We won’t,” Debbie said.

                “So, Kevin,” Wanda said, loudly enough for the whole table to hear, “are you ready to give us a performance like the one we just saw?”

                Kevin chuckled.  “I doubt I’ll be in that situation anytime soon,” he said.  “I used the bathroom before leaving the house, and I’ve only had that one glass of pineapple juice since then.”

                “Ah,” Wanda said, her eyes sparkling as she smiled playfully, “but, you see, that one glass of pineapple juice had a very special ingredient that will make the whole thing hit you really hard in about —” she looked at her watch — “three seconds.”

                “Oh, is that why I had to pee so bad out of nowhere!” Emily said in sudden realization as Kevin stared, stunned, at Wanda’s triumphant face.  Sure enough, as soon as Emily finished expressing her understanding, Kevin felt a sudden, powerful need to pee.  He tried to look casual as he felt at the back of his neck to see if he could get the lock off on his own, or open the outfit with the lock in place, or squeeze his shoulders through the neck hole.  None of these endeavors, with the possible exception of looking casual, were any more successful than they had been for Emily.  Kevin brought his hands back in front of him.

                Now that Kevin knew what they were after, he decided it would be best to try to hide his need.  It wasn’t that he was reluctant to be their toy, but he felt an instinctive desire to avoid embarrassment, and he also didn’t want to seem like he was following a script.  So, as calmly as he could, he said to Wanda, “Well, this has been fun.  But it’s getting late.  Why don’t you take the lock off so I can go home?”

                Wanda smirked.  “Yeah, nice try,” she said.  “You’re mine for the next fifteen minutes, and if you have a problem with that, you’re welcome to wear the outfit home.”  That would be silly, of course; it would mean wetting himself in front of the whole neighborhood, instead of merely the patrons of Dark Smiles, since there was no possible way he would make it home dry.

                Misdirection clearly wasn’t going to work, and Kevin wasn’t really able to keep pretending that he felt perfectly fine.  Feeling that he would wet himself otherwise, Kevin crossed his legs tightly and used a hand to squeeze his penis, which had softened considerably since Emily’s wetting.  Even knowing that he would probably end up peeing in the outfit anyway, he had to at least try to hold it until he could get Wanda to take the lock off.  There was still a chance that he would be luckier than Emily.

                “Looks like someone needs to pee,” Wanda teased.  “Amazing how hard that one glass of juice can hit you, isn’t it?  I bet you really want me to take the lock off now, don’t you?”

                “Yes, could you?  Please?” Kevin asked, feeling his need to pee intensify as he continued to squeeze his penis tightly through the cotton material covering it.

                Looking past Kevin, Wanda said, “What do you think, Crystal, should I take the lock off?”

                “No, let’s play with him a bit first,” Crystal said.

                “Yes,” Wanda agreed, “that would be more fun, wouldn’t it?”

                The two couples across the table put their hands down each other’s pants again as Wanda and Crystal unfastened enough of Kevin’s outfit to slide their hands in at the back of the waist and start tickling his bare skin.  Kevin squirmed around to try to get away from their fingers while continuing to struggle against his desperate need to pee.  He looked at Emily; she seemed to have almost fully recovered from her anxiety and had her mouth open in excitement as she stared at Kevin.  Beyond her, Debbie had a more confident, almost dominating smile, and she winked at Kevin when she saw him looking at her.

                Kevin felt Crystal kiss his cheek, and he turned slightly to look at her.  Smiling, she said, “You look so cute wiggling around and squeezing your dick trying so hard to keep from pissing yourself while we tickle you.  You really do have to go badly, don’t you?”  Kevin felt embarrassed to have been seen doing these things, but he hadn’t really had a choice; it was the only way to stay dry.

                Turning back to Wanda, Kevin said breathlessly, “Wanda, it’s getting worse.  Could you please take the lock off before I wet myself?  I’ll be your best friend forever.”

                “It’s getting worse?” Wanda teased.  “Is your bladder filling a bit faster than you would like?  Is the pressure at the base your dick becoming harder to resist?  Is the pee about to force itself through the length of that dick and into your clothes?”

                Uncrossing his legs and crossing them the other way, Kevin begged, “Wanda, come on, mix things up a bit, don’t make me wet myself like Emily did.”

                “That would be so embarrassing, wouldn’t it?” Crystal asked as Kevin turned to look at her.  Still smiling, she continued, “Grownups aren’t supposed to pee in their clothes.  And you’ve seen how see-through that outfit gets when it’s wet.”  Over her shoulder, Kevin saw Emily blush and look away briefly, although she quickly returned her gaze to Kevin.  Crystal added, “I wonder what your penis looks like.”

                Even though he wouldn’t be the first, it would indeed be quite embarrassing to wet himself in front of them.  But he couldn’t think of anything further to say to convince Wanda to take the lock off.  Feeling his need intensify further still, Kevin started to rapidly, repeatedly clench and relax the hand holding his penis as Wanda and Crystal continued to tickle his waist under the outfit.  Kevin really felt like he was going to start peeing soon no matter what he did, but he kept quiet for the time being, hoping that Wanda would lose interest and take the lock off before Kevin soaked himself uncontrollably.

                “Pssss…” Wanda and Crystal started hissing at Kevin, making it even more difficult for him to concentrate on not peeing.  He used a second hand to help him squeeze his frantic penis in pulses.  Just as Emily had done, Kevin started frequently uncrossing and re-crossing his legs, tensing his thighs each time they were crossed, and bending forward as well as he could while squirming from Wanda’s and Crystal’s tickling fingers.  He could not believe how badly he needed to pee.  His dread was reaching new heights.  All the other people around the table, however, including Emily, were clearly having the time of their lives.

                It wasn’t much longer before Kevin felt his hold weakening.  He looked at Wanda, hoping to see her hand moving toward the lock, but she still appeared to be devoting her energy to tickling, hissing, and enjoying Kevin’s struggle.  Kevin was out of time; he had to say something.  “Wanda,” he started, unable to keep the panic out of his voice, “I really can’t hold it anymore, could you please take the lock off now?”

                Wanda nodded at Crystal, and the two of them stopped tickling Kevin and removed their hands from his outfit.  They also stopped hissing.  Wanda moved her hands to the lock and started manipulating it.  Kevin did his best to at least keep his neck still so that Wanda could dial the combination more easily.  He was still rapidly crossing and uncrossing his legs and rhythmically squeezing his penis with both hands, desperately trying to hold on until Wanda could get the lock off.  But Wanda seemed to be turning the dial very, very slowly, and Kevin was already at his limit.  He felt a spurt of pee shoot out of his penis and saw a small wet spot appear at the crotch of his outfit.

                “Hurry up!” Kevin begged Wanda urgently, “I’m starting to pee!”  He felt another spurt and saw the spot get larger.  He could feel that he only had a few more seconds before he lost all control.

                Wanda removed her hands from the back of Kevin’s neck, but Kevin could see that she was not holding the lock.  “I dialed the first two numbers,” Wanda said.  “All you have to do now is turn the dial clockwise until you hear a clunk, and then you’ll be able to open it.”

                Was she seriously playing more games?  Kevin’s muscles gave out; he started to pee continuously into his outfit, and no amount of clenching (be it with his hands, thighs, or internal muscles) could stop the flow.  Once he realized that there was no longer any point trying to fight his body, he let go of his penis and shifted his focus to processing what Wanda had just said.  Clockwise, eh?  He held a hand in front of him as though gripping a dial, figured out which direction clockwise would be, then put the hand on the lock dial behind his neck and started slowly turning it clockwise as he continued to wet himself.

                As soon as Kevin heard the clunk, he immediately pushed his chair back and stood up.  The others around the table cheered as he did this, but he didn’t take any time to listen to them, or to see if Emily had joined in; he turned and ran to the bathroom Emily had used to clean up.  He heard the female staff member next to the hallway laughing at him, but it barely registered as he checked the bathroom door quickly to make sure it was unisex, went in, ran up to the toilet, lifted the seat, removed the lock from his neck, unfastened the back of the outfit, and pulled it down to his waist.  Below his waist, the wet material clung to his skin, making it difficult to pull down farther, but he was eventually able to get it past his still-peeing penis and finish his pee in the toilet.

                When he had finished peeing, Kevin found the toilet paper, tore off a square, used it to wipe the tip of his penis, and flushed it down the toilet.  He then kicked off his purple flip-flops and peeled his outfit the rest of the way down his legs.  He could feel how wet it was, particularly in the back; he doubted he had left the table much drier than Emily had; the portion of Kevin’s pee that had made it into the toilet would probably have ended up on the floor, rather than in his outfit, if Wanda hadn’t helped him take the lock off when she did.

                Once Kevin finished pulling his outfit off over his feet, he turned his head to look around the bathroom.  He saw the shower and shelves of neatly-folded white towels that Debbie had mentioned, as well as a sink.  He also saw a small door in the wall with the words “Laundry Chute” written above it.  Figuring that Wanda would probably want her lock back, he removed the lock from the outfit hole in which it was still hooked before putting the outfit itself into the laundry chute.  He then washed his hands and the lock in the sink, put the lock down at the edge of the sink, locked the bathroom door (which he hadn’t had time to do on his way in), picked up his flip-flops, and got into the shower.  He turned the water on and rinsed the flip-flops under it before washing his body as quickly as he could, using a bottle of soap he found in the shower that he assumed was provided the club.  He then put the flip-flops back on, dried himself with one of the towels on the shelves, wrapped the towel around himself, picked Wanda’s lock back up, and left the bathroom.

                As he came out in his towel, Kevin saw Wanda chatting with the nearby female staff member with the reddish-brown ponytail.  Kevin walked up to them and handed the combination lock to Wanda, saying, “Here,” as the women both turned to look at Kevin.

                “Thanks,” Wanda said, taking the lock.  “Did you put your outfit in the laundry chute?”

                “Yes,” Kevin said.

                “Great,” Wanda said.  “You can change back into your outside clothes now.”  Turning to the staff member, she confirmed, “That’s okay, right?”

                “Yes, absolutely,” the staff member said.  “Good job to both of you.”  She looked at Kevin to include him in the compliment, then added, “The nearest changing room has another laundry chute for your towel and flip-flops.”

                “You can come sit with us again when you’re done,” Wanda told Kevin.  “Your place has already been cleaned.  Of course, if you’d rather go home, that’s fine too.”

                “Thanks,” Kevin said.  He went to the lockers, removed his key from his wrist, unlocked his own locker, took his clothes and shoes out, and went into the changing room closest to the bar to put them on.  He found the laundry chute and put his towel and flip-flops into it before returning, dressed, to Wanda’s table.

                As Kevin sat back down, Wanda said excitedly, “You’re back!” and hugged him as well as she could, given that they were both sitting down.  “That was amazing!” Wanda went on, releasing Kevin from the hug.  “I really loved messing with you as you desperately tried not to wet yourself.  But my favorite part was seeing you stand up after starting to pee helplessly into that white cotton outfit.  It went just as see-through as Emily’s, and it was really magical to see the pee continue to flow, both while you were standing there and as you turned and ran to the bathroom.  You really couldn’t stop it, could you?”

                “I really couldn’t,” Kevin admitted.  “I’m lucky I got any in the toilet at all.”

                “Well, thanks for the show,” Wanda said.  “I hope you’re not traumatized.  They screen people coming in as well as they can without ruining the game.”

                “I’m fine,” Kevin reassured Wanda.  “I’m glad you had fun.”

                “That’s good to hear,” Wanda said.  “We’ll probably hang out here for another half an hour to see if we can snag a third target, and then we’re planning to go to an afterparty.  You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”  She looked at Emily and said, “You, too.”

                “Sure, I’d totally be up for that,” Kevin said.

                “Yeah, that sounds fun,” Emily agreed.

                Overall, Kevin had found Dark Smiles to be the most exciting place he had ever visited.

The End

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